The Second Selection SYOC
by celegra123
Summary: Prince Ryder, son of King Maxon and Queen America, is coming of age. It's time for 35 lucky girls to compete for his heart. The question remains: Who will be the next Queen of Illea? SYOC CLOSED! Disclaimer: I do not own the selection.
1. Chapter 1

This is a SYOC based on the amazing book, The Selection by Kiera Cass. I do not own the concept.

Here are the rules:

1\. No Mary Sues or Gary Stus (No perfect characters)

2\. Submit characters only by PM.

3\. I will assign provinces once the applications are in, do not ask for a specific one, please!

4\. If there are too many characters, I might not use some. Please understand that.

5\. If you have read these rules, type "The Second Selection" at the top of the message.

Here is the form:

Name:

Nickname:

Age:

Caste:

Family:

Job:

Height:

Weight:

Build:

Skin color:

Hair Color:

Hair Style:

Hair Texture:

Eye color:

Face:

Prince or Crown?:

History/Past:

Personality:

Flaws:

Skills:

Weaknesses:

Friends:

Past Boyfriends:

Other:

"King Ryder Schreave of Illea," Queen America said, testing out the words. "I like it. Are you excited to meet the 35 lovely ladies?" Prince Ryder groaned and flopped back onto his luxurious bed, brushing his sleek blonde hair out of his sparkling blue eyes. "Mom, stop making such a big deal out of this! I personally think it's a rather shallow and terrible way of choosing a wife," Ryder ranted heatedly. King Maxon rolled his chocolate brown eyes. "That's exactly what your mother said the first time I met her!" he exclaimed. "Sorry. I'm just not sure what to do! I know that some girls only want my crown, and I have no idea how to figure out who actually likes me for me. Dad? How did you find out who those people were?" King Maxon smiled, flashing his pearly whites. "Your beautiful mother here was kind enough to inform me before I made any mistakes." Queen America smiled, thinking back to their fight about Celeste. "I'm hopeless," Ryder moaned. A sudden voice giggled behind them, and they turned to see the 10 year old Princess Celeste, named in memory of America's late, great friend, grinning. "Oh, Ryder, you have no idea."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! So sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for a few months, but I've been sick, travelling, doing homework, or being lazy in that time. We can all relate. :) Anyway, I will actually start the Selection once I have 15 girls. I know, not the right amount, but 35 seems a bit much for me right now. Enjoy this chapter!**

Ryder's POV

I feel bad about doing this, but the anticipation is killing me. I managed to sneak past my mother and a few guards surrounding my father's office, and now I'm guiltily rummaging through his drawers. I need to know who at least a few of the Selected girls are! I finally find a yellowed folder labelled "The Selected". I flip it open eagerly and pick up the first application.

 _Coral Dunklee_ it reads in bold letters. That's a pretty name. I read the paper over. She's a 7, and her parents are gypsies. You don't see that every day. I flip to her picture. She's pale, and has light blonde hair that hangs in curls. She looks so peaceful; I could use some of that! She looks sweet, but her ambitions seem limited, her parents being gypsies, they probably want her to follow in their footsteps. I can relate.

Smiling, I reach for the next paper that says, _Avalon Shade_. She's a 2 with dark brown hair and icy blue-green eyes that cut into me. I wonder what she wants from the Selection. Me? My fame? Fortune? I shiver, slightly intimidated, and pick up another paper.

This one really intrigues me. It says her name is Winter Mayhem, a 6 flaunting golden, softly curled locks and mysterious grey eyes. Her smile is inviting and warm. But it's not her beauty that makes me look closer; it's the adventurous glint in her eye that makes me ache for something exciting, some action, in the palace one in a while. I grin, excited to meet her and all of the other girls. Who knew my excitement is spoiled in a mere second?

"Ryder Schreave!" mother shouts, her face as red as her hair, "What in the world are you doing in your father's office?! You put away those applications right now and go up to your room! If you're too irresponsible to stay away from a few documents, how will you ever run this country? Maybe we shouldn't even give you the luxury of the Selection at all and make you marry the princess of Germany!" My face drains of color as she mentions the princess of Germany. Her name's Monika, and she clings on to you like gum on the bottom of your shoe. I stalk away from the office and climb the stone steps of the palace slowly. Is mother really going to cancel my Selection?

* * *

My soft knock on my sister's door echoes through the long hallway on the third floor, and I feel a strange hollowness inside of me. "Come in," Celeste offers quietly, and I push the door open. I have to shield my eyes when I enter, for her room is such a bright pink that it practically outshines the sun. "Celeste," I say, my voice strained, "do you think Mom would ever cancel my selection? I-I really messed up this time." I break down, letting a tear silently slip down my face. This was my one chance with a reasonable marriage, and I blew it in just five minutes.

Celeste sighs, then replies gently, "Ryder, please don't be scared. Mom probably didn't mean it. You know her, with all her trust and temper issues." My sister rolls her eyes, and a chuckle escapes me. "Besides, I know dad can't stand the princess of Germany, so there's no way you're marrying that phony. I believe in you Ryder, and I believe that you will make Illea a much better place. I believe that you'll find a perfect bride in the Selection. I...I idolize you Ryder, so you can't let me down!" I smile gratefully at Celeste, tucking a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. "You're the best, Ess." She crookedly grins. "I know, Ryder. I know."

Feeling slightly better now, I leave her room and walk slowly down the hall to my paper-laden room. The papers are music scores for the piano; I got my love for music from my mother. My nimble fingers twitch, yearning for the familiar smooth surface of the keys, but I ignore it, yawning. Climbing into bed, my last thought before drifting off is of the selected girls I saw. I hope they aren't disqualified because of my prying.

* * *

Tonight when I sleep, I dream. I dream of a girl with Monika's peeving attitude and whining voice, Coral's light blonde curls, and Avalon's icy eyes, bearing the adventurous and daring expression that Winter was wearing. Even under the heavy, soft blankets, I shiver. "Ryder," she calls. "Ryder... Ryder, wake up!" Suddenly, the voice is urgent, younger, and right next to my ear. I bolt awake, inches away from a crying, hysteric Celeste. "What is it, Ess?" I ask, shaking her out of an upset stupor. "T-the rebels! T-they're here!" she wails.

My eyes widen and in a split second, I grab her tiny, shaking hand and push my free hand into a wall, uncovering the passage down to the safe room. I drag Celeste down the stairs and the guards usher us into the room where our panicked parents are waiting. I hear father soothing mother in a low tone. "America, listen to me. Your maids and the palace staff are all safe in their own safe room. They'll be perfectly fine." I go over to them and comment, "Dad, you don't know that. Why can't they just come with us? It's really unfair how poorly they're treated. A silly caste number shouldn't prioritize anybody's safety over another's!" Mother buries her face in her hands. Father pulls her in for a tight hug and looks seriously at me. "Ryder, you're not helping." "I never am, am I?" I snap, then turn away and plop down onto a cot. They don't understand the maltreatment of all this.

Suddenly, a loud bang is heard from above, then another, closer this time. I hug my knees to my chest and motion for a pale Celeste to sit next to me. She slips her clammy hand into mine. "I'm scared," she whimpers. "I know, Ess, I know. We're safe here, don't worry."

I never knew I could be so wrong.

 **A/N: I'm really sorry this was a short chapter! So, what do you think of those three girls? What will happen next? The list of the selected girls is up on my profile page, so be sure to check it out. Thanks for reading my story and continue to review and favorite!**

 **PS: I need one more character. If I don't get one soon, I'll just make one up, no worries, but I'd prefer not to.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Aaahhh! So excited for the Report, which is included in this chapter. Ready to see all the lovely Daughters of Illea?**

 ***DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE SELECTION***

Ryder's POV:

I felt like I was about to vomit.

As I sat up in my plush bed and stretched, everything came flooding back. Today the Selected would be broadcasted on The Report. But I didn't want this; any of this! I didn't want to be the King with all the burdens of Illea on my shoulders. I did't want to marry a stranger who only met me out of luck. I didn't want to be a constant target for the rebels. I didn't-

"Ryder!" Father came bursting into my room without even knocking. I groaned; how could he be that enthusiastic this early in the morning? "I thought you might want to see the Selected girls before the Report, just so you aren't so shocked then. When I held my Selection, I almost threw up on national television. I don't want that happening to you. Here, look at them." He shoved a familiar off-white folder into my hands. A sudden realization hit me.

"Dad..." I said slowly, "Where do you draw the girls from the lottery?" I could see the panic in his eyes as he opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out."Uh..." he stuttered. I narrowed my eyes. Finally, he sighed. "All right, you got me. Your mother and I have chosen these girls for your Selection. There is no lottery," he confessed, then quickly added, "It's for your own good. We're just making sure that the girls that you may marry aren't secret rebels, or someone who you might detest. We're just trying to give you a few good options for marriage." I scoffed. "Don't you think that's wrong? You're lying to the people of Illea! Why don't you just hang up a poster saying: _'Enter the Selection! Only the best, prettiest, and most impressive girls will get in, and then you'll suck up to the royal family for a little while!'"_ Father winced. "You don't understand, Ryder," he said passionately. I felt my face flush with anger; I have my mother's fiery temper, not my father's even, calm demeanor. "No, father, _you_ don't understand! This is my life you're toying with! Heck, this is our _country_ you're risking. If this news leaked, what do you think will happen? Even our guards cannot hold off hundreds of rioting lower-caste people!" I snapped, then stalked over to my bathroom door and slammed it behind me.

After taking a relaxing bath and pulling on a crisp navy suit jacket and matching starched pants, I calmed down a bit. I combed my short blonde hair back and quietly exited the bathroom, hoping my father had left. He had, and had taken the folder with him. I sighed and sat down at my mahogany desk, starting on some tedious paperwork. That's just another negative about being King; each day brings in stacks and stacks of paperwork. I hated it. All of it.

* * *

 _1 Hour until the Report..._

Princess Celeste's POV:

Ryder was pacing like a maniac! I felt bad for the poor hairdressers and makeup crew who had to work on him; he looked like a wreck and wouldn't stay still. I don't get why they couldn't let him get some alone time to think. I mean, does it really take an hour to comb hair and smother makeup onto a guy's face? Gosh.

Mom was looking at me with a look of amusement and curiosity. Then, she spoke up. "Celeste, do you think we'll have to pay the makeup and hair crew more today because of what a hard time Ryder's giving them?" Her eyes were dancing with humor. I giggled. "Yes, I do think that they may be close to calling it quits right now," I joked back. Mom smiled, tucking a wild lock of my auburn hair behind my ear. "Remember, Ryder's going through a lot right now. Please be nice to him and behave around the Selected girls." she reminded me. I rolled my hazel eyes. "I know, I know. I'm not a little kid, Mom." She grinned.

"Alright-y, folks! Time to get this show on the road!" Gavril Fadaye, our show host for 30 years, exclaimed. The room burst into a frenzy. Ties were straightened, hair was smoothed, and dress bodices were pulled up. It was time for the Report. Gavril winked at me as I passed. "Put this next to His Royal Nervousness just in case." He handed me a tiny garbage bin. I laughed and took the bin, doing as I was told. Though he meant it as a joke, I think we all knew that there was a high chance it was necessary.

* * *

 _The Report_

Prince Ryder's POV:

My hands were clammy, and I was sweating under the heat of the spotlights. To viewers, I looked clam, pristine, and excited on the televisions. In reality, I was on the verge of tears. But, princes do not cry. Princes set an example. Princes stay calm. Princes-

"And, now, introducing to all of Illea: The new, lovely Daughters of Illea!"

Oh, god no.

Gavril smiled wide and gave me a swift wink before cuing the control room. This was it. One of these girls would be my wife.

"Lady Kathleen Marie Chase from Allens, 5!" A picture of a freckled blonde with wide blue eyes flashed on the screen. I grinned. Mom tilted her head, as if she could find out her whole life story from just a picture.

" Lady Fauve Beverly Allison from Angeles, 2!" This girl was another blonde with bright aqua eyes. I beamed. Celeste was mockingly making kissy faces at me. Mom quickly and silently scolded her, but she kept smiling smugly. I love my sister, but she could be annoying as heck at times.

"Lady Yasmin Miri from Atlin, 3!" A girl with dark brown, wavy hair appeared. Her eyes were green with brown rings around the pupils. Strange, but uniquely beautiful.

"Lady Theodosia Marina Crowley from Baffin, 2!" I liked this girl's name. It was foreign to me, and exotically pretty. She had almost black, frizzy hair and inviting grey eyes. Her grin was sly.

"Lady Coral Dunklee from Bankston, 7!" I drew in a sharp breath and eyed Father. This pale blonde girl was only a step up from, well, dirt. I couldn't imagine why father would drag her away from her work and family to the palace, but she was nonetheless attractive and serene.

"Lady Winter Elodie Mayhem from Belcourt, 6!" Again, 6 is quite a low caste. What was my father playing at? I couldn't help but notice this girl's striking looks. She had thick, wavy light blonde hair coupled with mysterious grey eyes, high cheekbones, and a thoughtful look in her eyes. Strange.

"Lady Irisveil Vesta from Bonita, 6!" What was with all the low castes? I side-eyed Father. His face was unreadable; nonchalant. I turned back to the picture. Her oval face was cute with her short chocolate brown hair. I smiled, anxious to meet her and the rest of the girls.

"Lady Aeluna Volkova from Calgary, 4!" Aeluna. A whimsical name for a whimsical-looking girl. She has a jet-black braid slung across one shoulder, and her eyes were seemingly purple, at first glance. I could see Mom squinting at the screen too, trying to identify the color.

"Lady Scarlett Minder from Carolina, 3!" Mom smiled, hearing her home province's name. This girl had brown hair with reddish highlights and sparkling green eyes. I grinned at this sweet-looking girl.

"Lady Juliette Rose from Clermont, 6!" Another 6? I focused on the picture instead of on my father. She had dark brown hair that hung in a long braid. Her deep green eyes were intense. I tilted my head in thought. What must she be like?

"Lady Avalon Rose Shade from Columbia, 2!" This girl had brown hair with caramel-colored streaks, and piercing, icy green eyes. I shivered. Her gaze made me feel like an ant about to be stepped on. Even Celeste looked scared and wary. I shook my head. I shouldn't judge these girls by their looks.

"Lady Hazel Destiny White from Dakota, 4!" She had straight brown hair and innocent hazel eyes. I felt the need to protect her. She looked so fragile, and I wanted to shield her from the world's realities.

"Lady Ebonee Allison Wilson from St. George, 4!" The picture showed a young girl with smooth ashy-brown hair and blue-grey eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked excited.

"Lady Madonna Bautista from Honduragua, 6!" She had tanned skin and thick caramel hair. She had narrow eyes and was smiling widely. She seemed like a cheerful person. I smiled as well.

"Lady Madelyn Lockhart from Likely, 5!" I stared at this strikingly attractive girl. Her side-parted hair was a deep brown, framing her face. The thing I grinned at, however, was her smoldering chocolate brown eyes. Most of the others had blue or green eyes, and this girl added a little something to the mix.

"And those, ladies and gentlemen, are the new lovely Daughters of Illea!" Gavril announced, beaming. "Tune in next week on _The Report_ to catch an interview with each of these charming ladies. Good night!" The moment the ON AIR sign clicked off, I relaxed and sighed, running a hand through my hair. How was I supposed to narrow all those great girls down to just one woman? It was impossible.

"Ryder, what did you think of the girls?" Father inquired. I glanced at him, hesitated, then responded, "If you don't mind me asking, Father, why were most of them lower-caste women?" Father thought for a moment. He finally said, "Ryder, The Selection was made to stop riots with the lower castes and please the citizens for a while. Now, the novelty has worn off, and riots are starting to pick up speed. Your mother and I thought that putting more lower-caste girls in the running would hold them off, just for a while, so that we have time to figure out a solution." I took a moment to take all the new information in, and scoffed. "That's kind of shallow and manipulative, don't you think?" Father's voice was passionate. "Ryder, I'm willing to risk my reputation for peace. I'm not being manipulative; all those girls seemed great. But, the lower caste was just... a perk, for lack of other words." I sighed.

"Whatever you say, Father. I need some time to think. I'll be in my room. Goodnight, father, Mother, Celeste, Gavril." I gave my mom a quick kiss on the cheek and tiredly climbed the cold marble stairs, engulfed in my swarm of thoughts. However, one thought plagued me for the rest of the night: _What do I do now?_

 **A/N: Annnndddd... there you go! The AMAZING selected girls! I honestly loved each and every one of them. It was such fun to write about Ryder, who's just a guy who needs to figure out his feelings and find himself a bit more. Maybe on of the girls could help him with that...? (Hint, hint) Sorry this took so long, but homework has been serious TORTURE! I hope to be posting Chapter 4 sometime soon. BYE FOR NOW! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! Long time no see! I'm sorry I've been so distant; this is the curse of homework! But I hope you enjoy this chapter about the makeovers!**

 ***DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE SELECTION!***

Madelyn Lockhart's POV:

My first thought when I get to the palace?

Woah.

Seriously, though, this place is HUGE! It's got to be at least 5 times the size of my house. A gigantic smile stretches across my face as I take in the rest of the palace. The foyer itself is sprawling, with ancient mosaics and pastel designs decorating the walls. It's bright, but not tacky. Each hallway is the length of a basketball court, and the chamber called the Great Room is seriously spectacular. Plush sofas line the side two walls, and tiny tea tables are lined up in the back. Tall, crystal clear windows let the glare of the midday sun into the room, illuminating every nook and cranny. I gasped when I saw the television. The flat-screen TV hung on the wall in all of its 65" glory. Back at home, we rarely even had functioning TV, let alone a large screen to watch our single channel on.

A middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense look escorted us to the Woman's Room. She introduced herself as Silvia.

"Before you go off to the makeup crews, let me set some ground rules," she said. "You may not go outside, not even to the gardens, without permission from authority and a guard. The third floor is off-limits, as that's where the royal family resides, however anywhere else in the palace is open, except for the King's office. Ladies, you must ALWAYS treat the royal family with high respect; in this competition, it is vital. Sabotaging another girl or any physical altercations will not be tolerated and will result in immediate elimination. That said, off you go! Good luck, girls." And with that, Silvia swept away in a dramatic flourish.

"Dramatic much?" the girl named Fauve muttered. I frowned at her negative tone, but my smile was soon replaced when I was swept up by the makeover crew at Station 1.

"OMG! Look at her hair! It's sooo long!" one of the girls, around 14 years old, I assumed, whispered excitedly. I grinned widely at her enthusiasm.

"Thank you," I replied politely. The girl gasped, surprised that I heard her, and maybe a bit embarrassed. I giggled and sat down on the barbershop chair obediently. The crew got to work, scrubbing my body and snipping at my hair. I sat as still as I could.

By the end of the makeover, I was practically glimmering with cleanliness and smelled of jasmine, courtesy of the palace. I loved it. Then the crew brought me over to a rack of colorful dresses.

I must've made a face, because a man with spiky black hair said, "I know, honey, but you have to. Dresses are a MUST in this competition. What fun would trousers be in such a palace like this? Especially around the prince!"I sighed at the mention of Prince Ryder. He was so handsome and charismatic.

After five long minutes of pulling, yanking, and adjusting, the raven-haired man, who introduced himself as Leo, brought me over to a full-length mirror glittering with freshly Windex-ed glass. I gasped. My long hair had been layered and curled delicately, and while it used to reach my waist, the clean, neat tips of my hair barely reached my elbows. Thin caramel highlights were added, and not a hair was out of place. Leo and his crew used bronze/gold eye shadow to bring out my brown eyes, and my tiny pink lips now looked like plump, soft, fuchsia princess lips. Oh, and the dress! The day dress, as Leo called it, reached above my knees and was my favorite light green color. The top was fitted, but plumed out at the waist in bursts of wispy tulle and strands of silk. My trademark silver necklace hung lightly on my neck, the perfect accessory for any outfit. I truly looked breathtaking.

"T-thank you so much, Leo," I stuttered. He simply smiled widely and pulled me in for a tearful hug, as if I was leaving forever. Gosh, I hoped not. Pulling away, I surveyed the other girls' makeovers, and suddenly, my appearance didn't seem so special when I took in Coral's baby pink glossed lips, or Aeluna's jet-black locks.

I shook my head. No. I had to stop thinking like that. If I was going to win over Prince Ryder's heart, I couldn't be intimidated that easily. I took a deep breath and strode over to the couches, chin held high.

* * *

Ebonee Wilson's POV:

A luxury life at a massive palace? Yes, please! Especially if that life does not include bias and aggressive Grandma Nellie, or that snappy sister of mine, Alice Jane. I know that 4 isn't a bad caste, but being a One would be, well... unbelievable. I wouldn't have to take Alice Jane's insults, or Grandma Nellie's rudeness. If they came to stay with me, there's no way they could force me to sleep on the couch. Not anymore. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Besides, I haven't even met the prince yet. But if he follows suit of all the other boys I've met, he'll be smitten quite soon.

After an uptight woman named Silvia explained the ground rules and procedures, we were whisked away to a room called the Woman's Room, where all the Selected girls were made up with various powders and creams. Row upon row of bright sparkling day dresses lined the walls, hanging on silver metal racks. Large crates filled to the brim with makeup adorned each station, complete with a vanity, full-length mirror, and a handful of stylists, makeup artists, and hairdressers. I was led towards Station 2, where three eager faces awaited me. They introduced themselves as Cassandra, Rose, and Willa, my makeup crew. Immediately, they attacked my face with brushes and strange silver contraptions that did various things to beautify my face. By the time they were done, my ash brown hair had been trimmed to reach just below my shoulder blades, and my natural golden highlights had been accentuated. I looked... cute. Stylish. Hot, even. Then I saw the dresses.

"Oh, I know, dear! Aren't they just fabulous?" A short man with gelled black hair and a suave button-up shirt came up behind me, making me jump. "Sorry if I startled you, darling. I'm Leo, the official palace stylist. Now these day dresses are for the week, just in case... you know... you leave within the next 7 days. But I'm sure that's not going to be an issue! Look at you! Now, now... what dress for today?" I stared as he spoke. He didn't even take a breath. How?

"Ah! Here we are!" Leo pulled a silver figure-hugging dress out of the rack. I pulled it on right then and there, and Leo gasped.

"Perfect!" he cried. I looked at myself in the long mirror to my right. I gaped. I didn't even recognize myself. My hair was is a long bob, and my face looked striking. My eyes popped, and my cheeks were flushed a light pink shade. The dress made my physique look feminine and seductive, instead of shapeless. Three-inch bejeweled heels made me as tall as a supermodel. I could've been mistaken as a glamorous 2, with these clothes. I thanked Leo graciously, and he responded with a strangling embrace. Once untangled, I headed over to a plush couch in a corner, where some girls had already congregated. I sighed happily. _I could get used to this._

* * *

Fauve Allison's POV:

As the other girls oohed and aahed at the palace, I simply yawned. Honestly? This was just a glorified version of The Bachelor, which was already a much worse program than my parents' television shows. Or mine, for that matter. After some old lady named Silver or something blubbered on about rules, we got to go to The Woman's Room, where we would get makeovers. Finally, something useful! A trio of women awaited my arrival at Station 7.

"Hello, Lady Fauve! My name is Cassandra, and these two are Rose and Willa. Today we will be giving you a makeover for the Selection. Please, take a seat!" the shortest one exclaimed all in one breath. I rolled my eyes. Lower-caste bottom feeders could be _so_ annoying sometimes.

"It's Beverly to you," I snapped, sitting down. Their smiles wavered. _That's right. I'm not your everyday 5 here to make friends and make goo-goo eyes with the prince. Get used to it._

They warily applied makeup to my delicate face, using all the wrong techniques, I was sure. The palace should've hired my movie makeup artists. They would've done such a better job. But, alas, some people just had no taste whatsoever.

"My lady, please follow me to retrieve your day dress for today," the one named Willa said timidly. I reluctantly rose and strided over to the gleaming rack of dresses, secretly slightly impressed. An overly flamboyant man named Leo introduced himself and started to pick out today's dress.

"Allow me." I confidently walked up to the rack of dresses and picked one of the more sparkly ones up. Slipping it on, I noticed that it was the slightest bit itchy on the arms. They must've used cheap material, the idiots. I turned to Leo, putting my hands on my hips.

"Do I meet your standards now, Rio?" I snapped. He huffed.

"It's L-E-O, not Rio. And yes, Lady Fauve, that dress looks stunning on you. Take a look at yourself." He motioned towards a full-length mirror. I peered into the looking glass. I looked... It was...

Nothing special at all. My hair was longer, thanks to some extensions, and was highlighted with darker blonde strands. My face was made up sloppily, in my opinion, and the dress was silver and nude pink, reached just past my butt, and was adorned with sparkles all over. The neckline was low-cut, but not dangerously so. The sleeves went down to my elbows, and honestly? It was all borderline gaudy. I laughed bitterly.

"Is that really the best you could do, Teo? The makeup artists and stylists for my show are much more adept at this than all of you combined." I gestured towards the makeup crew. They sat in a stunned silence. Before they could make some feeble response, I turned on my very high nude heels and clacked away steadily. I was the last to finish. Good. That way, my entrance would be more pronounced to the other girls. I put on a radiant but menacing smile and sashayed towards the crowd of girls.

Oh, this will be fun.

 **A/N: Ah, yeah... so, I kind of sort of forgot to mention makeovers in the application form. So, since I didn't want to change any of your characters in major ways, I didn't. Nobody was changed that much: just slight haircuts, cleaning, dressing, makeup, etc. Nothing too big.**

 **Also, I plan to use this format from now on: around 2-3 perspectives per chapter, unless there's a special event such as a date or something. Prince Ryder will also narrate from time to time.**

 **Thank you guys so much for being so patient and supportive, your reviews and follows really make my day! :)**

 **I'll try to update soon, so bye for now! x**

 **~Cel**


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